“Good. It’s about time you did something that shows people how great your heart is.”
“I hate the interviews.”
“You need to get over that.”
“I have to memorize everything. You have no idea what it’s like to be dyslexic.”
“Nope. I sure don’t. I do know what it’s like to be awkward.”
“That’s not even remotely the same. Speeches were the worst in middle school.”
“Speeches are your beef? You think it was any easier to be in the enriched math classes as a girl? Fuck that. It sucked. Like I wasn’t nerdy enough without that label slapped on me. None of those guys even bathed regularly. And then there was you, needing ‘help’.” She makes air quotes. “When really you were screwing everything with a pulse, getting everyone to do your bidding because you were King Jock of Turd Hill. Being your stepsister was a pain in my damn ass in high school. But I got over it. So should you.”
“Yeah, but you’re super smart and shit’s easy for you.”
“Easy? Because I’m good at math? You do realize I have to work more than sixty hours a week to make less than two percent of your yearly salary, right?”
“Less than two percent?”
“Plus bonuses, but yeah.”
“Wow.”
“It’s cool. I’m marrying a millionaire who likes to buy me ridiculously expensive things. I’m sure I can handle my crappy salary, all considering. This isn’t about me, though. I get that you work hard, too, but come on! You’ve got an incredible skill set that allows you to get around your perceived deficiency, which, if you decided to be more vocal about it, might actually win you some serious points.”
“No one wants to hear about my deficiencies.”
“Are you kidding? People always want to hear about other people’s challenges. It makes them feel like anything is possible. And it makes some people feel better about themselves because they’re assholes.
“If you wanted, you could go into schools and talk about how hard it was for you and how you struggled to pass your classes, but that you persevered. I mean, obviously you don’t want to tell them you fucked all your tutors, and your poor stepsister had to listen to loud music in the next bedroom while it all went down. But you can give millions of kids false hope, and a few awesome kids the inspiration they need to make it to the next level.”
I ignore the part about screwing all my tutors. I’m not going there with her right now. “I don’t know, Vi. That’s like . . . personal.”
“Personal? Are you kidding? This coming from a man who lets his friends take pictures of his balls and post them on the Internet?”
“I didn’t let him do that. And anyway it was to figure out what kind of spider bit me. No one was supposed to know they were my balls.”
“And that makes it so much better.” She twists her ring around her finger. “I don’t get why being classified as a manwhore is so appealing—especially when being the guy who’s overcome challenges and volunteers at camps and even helps kids afford them is so much less offensive.”
“I’m not trying to be a manwhore. I was trying to be Sunny’s boyfriend, and look how that turned out. I spent my teen years dealing with all the shit that came with being the dumb kid; I’m not interested in going back to that.”
“Who says you have to? Come on, Buck. Life is tough. Teenage years suck balls—cheesy ones that haven’t been washed in a week. You make five million dollars a year. You’re not dumb. Relationship-inept maybe, but definitely not dumb. If you want to change how things are going, you need to do something selflessly selfish.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Let me explain. Did you know you’re mentioned in an article recently that has nothing to do with who you’ve boned?”
“The only person I’ve boned lately is Sunny. I mean, had sex with. I’m not boning Sunny. That’s not what you do with someone you care about.”
“Sometimes all you need is a good boning, even with the person you love. Anyway, I’m not talking about media perception of who you’re boning. I’m talking about that camp you went to. You did an interview, and it was awesome. People are already falling in love with you.
“Get more positive attention. Stop going to the bars, stop going to Lance’s for parties, and stop getting yourself into more trouble. Find out what’s going to be happening at places before you show up. Regardless of what goes down between you and Sunny, this thing you want to do is good. It’s the version of you everyone should get to see.”
Funny how losing someone important is the thing that finally makes me decide to step outside my comfort zone. Now I wish I would’ve done it sooner.